


Catching Raindrops

by amelioratedays



Category: Infinite - Fandom
Genre: Idol Verse, M/M, Myungyeol - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 06:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2803007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amelioratedays/pseuds/amelioratedays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Myungsoo lets go of his sanity one day only to have to fall onto Sungyeol. But either way, he figures he doesn't want to back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catching Raindrops

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what I just wrote; this story turned out completely different from what I originally planned.

Myungsoo really isn’t quiet, calm, or collected. In fact, he’d describe himself as quite the opposite. But real or not, he’s still got to play the L façade. L was unperturbed, full of charisma and enigmatic presence as he walked on his own pace. It’s nothing like Myungsoo who rushes to catch up to others, tripping and falling onto the cold asphalt. The difference between Myungsoo and L could probably measure out to the distance between the earth and the sky—too big, too vague, and too burdensome. He’s fading into an array of forced silences and restricted movements; Myungsoo finds being L much too restraining.  
  
There are times when he lets himself go—throws his common sense out the window and Myungsoo doesn’t even bother to see if it has shattered or not. The raindrops were hitting his window pane, atoms forming hydrogen bonds before they flow down. They’re falling like his sanity. The rain’s a sanctuary to Myungsoo and his awkward, clumsy— _normal_ —self. Washing off the overdose of hairspray and the suffocating layers of makeup, he’s flawed and imperfect. And as he slips into a plaid shirt and sweatpants, he’s never felt freer.  
  
The rain lets him ponder, thoughts drifting away from schedules and practice. He thinks about his career, his image, and the cracks on his ceiling. Myungsoo wonders vaguely what they would be like without set images. Maybe Woohyun would stop making those bunny noises and Howon would revert to his beta male tendencies. And maybe—just maybe—Sungyeol would take over L’s personality; because, behind the bright, friendly image, Myungsoo finds Sungyeol as enigmatic as ever. Behind the scripted smiles and endless lines, it was never Sungyeol talking nonstop for hours. It was always Myungsoo pining for Sungyeol’s attention, never the other way around. Myungsoo’s not the one catching raindrops on his fingertips just to see it crash to the ground.  
  
He doesn’t expect his sanity to land on Sungyeol’s fingertips, fragments still lingering onto the crevices of his palm. Sungyeol doesn’t notice—oblivious to pieces of Mungsoo’s soul clinging onto him—and only proceeds to watch raindrops pool around his hands. He comes in a moment later reeking of fresh nitrogen, storm clouds, and L. There’s water gathered at the ends of his fringe and Myungsoo vaguely thinks that he wants to embrace him. But not really because Sungyeol takes one look at him and spits out a: “Why are you still wearing that?”  
  
“They’re comfortable.”  
  
“I though you threw them all out.”  
  
Myungsoo sighed, wrapping his blanket around himself. “There, all done.” He said, hands reaching out to hold on to the other’s.  
  
The older male only laughed, slipping his fingers away. “You aren’t making any sense.”  
  
Myungsoo looked up, hands suddenly empty and reminiscent. “I don’t want to.”  
  
Sungyeol shook his head and proceeded to the bathroom, puddles forming every step he took. It’s still raining.  
  
It’s not as if Sungyeol was cold—not at all—it was just more toned down. Behind cameras, there were fewer smiles, less embraces and Sungyeol was never overflowing with adrenaline. Myungsoo found him once, three o’clock in the morning, in the neighborhood park, swinging silently underneath the night sky. He’d felt invisible that day, staring at Sungyeol while the other hummed an unknown tune. It was as if the other didn’t see him—didn’t care enough to. No, it’s not as if Sungyeol was cold. Myungsoo finds him lukewarm.  
  
Myungsoo doesn’t comprehend him—doesn’t try to—and only walks up to the other, blanket trailing in tow before wrapping it  _(and himself)_  around Sungyeol.  
  
“It’s cold”, he whispered.  
  
Sungyeol replies a beat later; “It’s winter after all.”  
  
Myungsoo only nods, hands grasping tighter as Sungyeol travels with him attached. The rain was still coming down, ice cold shards drumming upon glass windows. His sanity was still pooling in Sungyeol’s open hands.  
  
It’s not as if Sungyeol was cold— _not one bit_ —and Myungsoo thinks this more than ever when Sungyeol doesn’t seem to mind his arms around his waist. (Doesn’t mind the lips on the nape of his neck.) He’s letting Sungyeol keep his sanity, collecting together with the rain before it falls to the ground as well. Myungsoo doesn’t mind, in fact, he’s hoping that it shatters into a million pieces.  
  
Nothing really makes sense for a while except that Myungsoo knows that Sungyeol is warmer than three blankets stacked on top of each other and that the cracks on his ceiling are shaped like grizzly bears. Everything is completely languid and he relaxes for once. He gets a well earned break from variety shows and avoids interviews unless they were absolutely necessary. Myungsoo wonders if this is what life would be like if he suddenly quit the band.  
  
And he thinks.  
  
Because if it is, he doesn’t really mind.  
  
He tells Sungyeol this, absentmindedly while conversing over midnight snack bars. Sungyeol looks at him and ( _for the first time_ ) reaches for Myungsoo’s fingertips. “Don’t.” Myungsoo doesn’t respond, can’t help but notice the shards of his sanity on Sungyeol’s palm. They’re cutting into his hand, reopening healed wounds. Sungyeol doesn’t know, grasping tighter onto the younger—stabbing glass into warm flesh.  
  


***

  
He causes trouble one day and he doesn’t know if it really was an accident or not; maybe it was some subconscious desire. But intentional or not, the bottom’s line was that Myungsoo had wreaked havoc, opened Pandora’s box and spread it around like gift bags. He sees himself everywhere, on covers of magazines and newspaper’s he’s never heard of. Words hung at the tips of the public’s tongue, whispers here and there as they pointed to him. Myungsoo finds them amusing, even more when it’s the ones who worried about him, because, really, he isn’t repenting.  
  
He wanted this,  _right?_  
  
There isn’t much to pack; he ends up giving half of it to the members anyways, leaving with only some of his clothes and accessories. He finds it better this way, less things to be reminiscent over while he’s drunk and wasted on lonely nights. Less things to sob over when he realizes that he regrets anything. Halfway out the front door and Myungsoo wonders if he’s really making the right choice. Storm clouds above and luggage in hand, he was walking towards his own solicited freedom.  
  
He doesn’t move back in with his family and instead opts for an apartment above the coffee shop he managed to plea a job out of. It’s not a particularly exciting job but Myungsoo grows fond of the whirring of the espresso machine, the ticking of the antique clock, and the creak of the wooden floor boards. His name tag proudly exclaims “Kim Myungsoo”—not L, not Hyun Soo—just plain and awkward Kim Myungsoo. Standing behind the counter, Myungsoo thinks that he’s found his dream job.  
  
It’s not as if his childhood dream was to stand on stage, in front of cameras and thousands of fans. No, not at all. So he’s got to say, he’s pretty much content making lattes and cappuccinos. Sungyeol tells him he’s an idiot when he tells him over the phone. “A singer makes much more, you know.” Myungsoo hums; “I make enough to pass the days.” Because it’s true, there’s nothing much to spend on anyways. So with night skies and twinkling stars, Myungsoo tells Sungyeol to come over someday. Sungyeol makes Myungsoo tell him the café address.  
  
Not that he was coming soon, anyways.  
  
He comes anyways, on a Friday night and it rains, like always. He’s cloaked in storm clouds and warm fronts, water gathering at the tip of his umbrella. He’s making puddles on the wooden floorboards, water seeping through the cracks and crevices. Myungsoo’s sanity is draining down creaking floors. L's being trapped underneath mahogany floors.  
  
The shop owner suddenly decides to play Can U Smile in honour of the idol in his store and Myungsoo doesn’t miss the look in the other’s eyes when Sungyeol tells him; “Look, that’s your part.” And Myungsoo nods, “I know.” And he doesn’t care, but he doesn’t have to state the obvious for Sungyeol to understand. It gets through, and the older only sips at his Café au Lait, letting the glucose and caffeine run through his bloodstream. It’s past midnight by now and Myungsoo tries not to think that he likes the way Sungyeol’s eyelashes look when he gazes down.  
  
But really, they do look rather pretty.  
  
And so he looks, well until Sungyeol speaks anyways. “Let’s take a walk.” Myungsoo nods, motioning towards the door. It's a quarter past midnight and they're both standing side by side underneath the midnight rain. Sungyeol doesn’t bring his umbrella, says he doesn’t need it and drags Myungsoo towards the empty street. They’re dancing underneath the incessant rainfall to the beat of raindrops on city rooftops. Cinderella’s long gone and the streets are illuminated like a stage by shards of lightning.  
  
Sungyeol’s holding out his hands again, cupped to let the water slip into his palms. “You’re always catching raindrops”, Myungsoo tells him. Sungyeol only smiles, hands reaching for Myungsoo’s and bringing them up towards the sky. “They call rain the tears of the angels after all.”  
  
Myungsoo smiled, hands sliding down to find Sungyeol’s neck. “Well, you caught something else too.” Surrounded by the crystal rain, Kim Myungsoo leaned in to meet the lips of Lee Sungyeol.

**Author's Note:**

> So halfway through writing, they suddenly decided that it was time to rebel and go against any type of planning I had for the story. Hence, it just turned craptastic at that point. :c But really, I just wanted to write Myungyeol, decent story or not. :c
> 
> Critiques are forever welcomed. ; u;


End file.
